


It's infatuation, nothing more.

by Madame_Xela



Series: What Dreams are Made of [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Canon - Book & Movie Combination, F/M, Falling In Love, Fem!Harry, Fíli POV, Harry and Bilbo are twins, Idiots in Love, Mentions of Sexual Content, Middle Earth, Short Chapters, Sporadic Updates, Vignettes, because i only planned on writing until rivendell, buckle up friends, but that should surprise no one by now, but we'll suffer together, fem!Bilbo, he's in denial okay, now ya'll are going to suffer through the whole thing, someone help this boy, with some slight alterations to each
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-08-05 23:26:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 6,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16377056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madame_Xela/pseuds/Madame_Xela
Summary: It wasn't love at first sight, but somewhere along the way a young dwarf Prince fell in love with a brave little hobbit from the Shire.Vignette collection





	1. Chapter 1

For Fíli, it wasn’t love at first sight; despite what his brother might think. For how could he, a dwarvish prince, love such a fussy and insufferable creature? Granted, the hobbit in question was not  _ nearly  _ as bad as her sister...and he wouldn’t deny  _ some  _ attraction to her. There was something enticing about the way her dark curls moved; and how her eye outshone the prettiest emeralds; and that little quirk of her lips that she had when she made a remark that was either witty, wicked, or both; and…

 

He wasn’t really helping his case. 

  
But it  _ wasn’t  _ love. That much he knew. 


	2. Chapter 2

The halflings were shit at riding ponies. That was as much a fact to Fíli as the sky being blue. And he had  _ no  _ problem teasing them about it. 

 

“ _ I wouldn’t mind letting her practice riding on me. _ ” He speaks in Khuzdul to his brother and Nori, only half joking. His eyes betray him as they land on the dark haired hobbit’s clothed bottom. The skirt-A  _ skirt _ ! Who wore a skirt on a  _ quest! _ ?-left much to the imagination, but he could see the occasional tensing of her thighs as the horse jostled in a way she was not used to. And when she moved to get more comfortable...Mahal there should be laws against that plump bottom moving like that!

 

Yes, he wouldn’t mind letting her ride him, for practice of course. 

 

He’d also love to find out how far down that blush went.


	3. Chapter 3

When the blonde halfling wants the company to turn around for a  _ handkerchief _ , Fíli has a smart remark ready. But when he turns to speak to her the words die in his throat, and he can’t for the life of him remember what was he meant to say. 

 

He had turned at the precise moment her sister reached down her blouse and pulled out a soft looking cloth from between her bosom. She was using it to soak up sweat under her breasts apparently. Later, Fíli would make a mental note to tell miss Baggins why that was a terrible idea-mainly if the cloth had been lost is could be used to track them. But for the life of him Fíli cannot do more than stare at the way her ample flesh moved. No Kíli, he was not drooling. 

 

“Can I help you, Master Dwarf?” She asks, eyebrow raised.  

 

_ Yes _ . Fíli thinks. Though, with her odd fixation with propriety it’s more than likely that she will box his ears for suggesting that. “Not at all, Miss Hobbit. I’m merely wondering what other surprises you have hidden in that dress of yours.” The look he receives is not at all impressed but it doesn’t stop him from giving her a salacious wink. 


	4. Chapter 4

The halflings were not yet used to sleeping on the road. It was rather amusing watching them toss and turn until they gave up their search for sleep. Sometimes when sleep was too far out of reach, they would care for (spoil) their ponies. Other times they could be found mending clothes or smoking or other such activities that kept their hands busy. 

 

But what Fíli found himself enjoying most, was when they indulged the Company (mainly Ori, Kíli, and Bofur) with stories of the Shire. Of little faunts who stole cooling treats from window sills (not that the Bagginses would  _ ever  _ do such a thing); of parties under a great tree; and of the large families halflings tended to have-which of course (much to the annoyance of the rest of the Company) led to Gloin waxing poetic about his lovely family. 

 

The blonde halfling had an unquestionable talent for storytelling. And while he was very much entertained by childish exploits through the woods to find elves (though, why anyone would willingly seek out an elf was beyond him) he enjoyed when her sister told stories more. For her stories were less for the amusement of others and more showing them her pride and love for her home and people. The softness of her eyes, glowing in the firelight, as she spoke of her parents; Her voice quiet, warming him in a way that a fire simply could not as she spoke of the first dress she’d made-only for it to be dirty and ruined by the end of the day due to a tussle between herself and her cousin Aldagrim; the way her hands moved as she spoke. 

 

Fíli would purposely take second watch, for it seemed more often than not that that was when the hobbits abandoned their quest for sleep. He’d smile, offering whichever one stumbled to the fireside a puff of his pipe, open ears, and a shoulder to rest their heads on when sleep was merciful enough to finally claim them. 

 

Thankfully, no one commented on how he kept one hobbit by his side longer than the other. 


	5. Chapter 5

It was the Ale that had him staring at the hobbit as she chatted with her sister and some old friends at the bar. Not because he thought the way that her nose scrunched when she laughed was rather endearing. 

 

It was the Ale that had him leaving the company of his fellow dwarrow to seek hers. Not because he had been itching to move to her side all evening. 

 

It was the Ale that had him propositioning her for a night together-no strings attached. Not because he had been thinking about it for days. 

 

It was the Ale that had him feeling so hurt and put out when she scowled and told him to go and pull his tricks on someone else. Not because he had secretly hoped she’d say yes. 

 

It was the Ale’s fault. Clearly. Why  _ else  _ would her rejection sting so?


	6. Chapter 6

She was still cross with him the next morning. He apologizes, blaming his behavior on drink. She tells him all is well, but the look on her face says otherwise and Fíli vows to her that he will not make her so uncomfortable again. She rolls those pretty green eyes, thinking him ridiculous, and tells him that she’s got some business to attend to in Bree before they leave. 

 

She really oughtn’t have gone alone, Fíli thinks. 

 

And indeed he is right. For when Fíli sneaks out to follow-for her protection, you never knew what unsavory sorts lurked in Bree-he found her at an armory. Her collar is lower than he remembers it being (not that he was looking, but there  _ is  _ a noticeable difference) and she’s giggling at something the man behind the desk says. 

 

Fíli’s hand clutches the handle of one of his throwing knives. Why didn’t she laugh like that at one of  _ his  _ jokes?  

 

He watches as the man pulls out a contraption and shows it to Miss Baggins. He’s seen some around before-crossbows, they’re called-though never wielded by a dwarf. From a distance, it doesn’t look too poorly made, for a weapon made by man. He could get her a better one, a proper one, dwarven made. He could probably make it himself if he had the time. 

 

The price for that weapon is far above its actual worth. Even Miss Baggins knows this. But she keeps the man talking, laughing at another thing the man says. Slowly, the price goes down...so does the collar of Miss Baggins’s blouse. A part of Fíli is filled with righteous fury on her behalf-definitely  _ not  _ jealousy-yet before he can act upon it the Man and Miss Baggins reach an agreement. 

 

She gets the crossbow and thirty bolts for less than a third of the initial asking price. She takes it with a dazzling smile that makes Fíli’s insides run wild. 

 

The Man says something to Miss Baggins that makes her giggle again, and blush. It isn’t something that should spoken aloud in public like that. But before Fíli can run over to defend her honor, Miss Baggins gathers her new belongings, turns on her heels, and leaves. 

 

That smile is replaced with a grimace almost immediately and her shirt is tugged back up to a respectable height. 

 

“I hate dealing with Menfolk.” She tells him quietly as soon as she saddles up to his side. Perhaps more for her comfort than an actual desire for his company. “They look down on me because of my size-calling me Halfling though I am half of nothing-or they think of me as a child...or think me stupid simply because I am a woman. And some have the audacity to think…” A dark look crosses over her face, gone almost as quickly as it came. “But if one can be distracted enough by a smile and some flesh to be practically robbed blind, then who is truly the stupid one?” Fíli does not answer, nor does she ask for one. 

 

He’s much too busy thinking of all the ways he can kill the Man before they leave Bree in a few hours, anyway. (He comes up with one hundred and twelve.)

 

And before he has time to properly process what it is he’s saying, he offers her a spare sword (which she tried to decline, only accepting because Fíli reasoned that she simply cannot rely on that one weapon for their entire journey) and offers to teach her how to use both. She accepts, and Fíli cannot find a good enough reason for his absolute delight at that. 

 

From that point on, he also makes a point to stop using the word Halfling, and scolding anyone (including Dwalin  _ and  _ Uncle Thorin) who used it. 

 

The smile he received was worth more to him than all of the gold in Erebor. 


	7. Chapter 7

Miss Baggins (‘Call me Harry you impertinent thing! There are two Bagginses on this adventure and I’ll not have you confusing us.’) sorry,  _ Miss Harry _ had surprisingly good aim. However, her grip was weak and her stance terrible. And her skills with his blade left much to be desired. But Fíli found himself enjoying their little training sessions. 

 

He found, if he irked Miss Harry enough, her tongue was much sharper than her blade. If he praised her for doing something right he was rewarded with a dazzling smile. If Miss Harry was deep in her thoughts, or concentrating enough, the tip of her tongue would poke out from between her lips (and Fíli was distracted by that little pink monster more than once). If one of the Company teased her about learning to ‘wield his sword’, she would play dumb and innocent until the offender was flushed and bumbling away, then she’d turn to Fíli with the most mischievous gleam in her eye and they would both burst into laughter.

 

And if he stood closer to her than was necessary while he guided her through the movements, well...that was his business.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry just does not care anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added an extra day or two in between Bree and the Trollshaws, because plot

He was no stranger to rain. Despite what others were inclined to believe, it did actually rain at Ered Luin. Fíli had actually enjoyed it as a child, taking to the streets as soon as the rain fell and playing in puddles until he became his mother’s muddy bane. 

 

Now though, as an adult, he held no such fondness. Or maybe it was just because it had been raining for days on end, and not only was he dying from the summer heat, but his clothes were sopping wet, heavy and stinky. 

 

At least he wasn’t the only one suffering. It seemed that everyone else in the Company joined him in his hot and wet misery. Even Miss Harry, who at the beginning of the deluge had outstretched her arms and smiled beatifically, was pouty and snappish. Though Fíli had not checked on her in several hours due to-a-uh certain reaction he had when seeing her wet clothes clinging to her curves. 

 

Finally, mercifully, the rain stopped. Uncle was kind enough to allow them to stop for a while and dry off, Fíli and his brother wasted no time stripping down to their small clothes and flopping onto a sunwarmed boulder. 

 

All was well until he heard the squawking of Miss Billa. 

 

“What on Earth are you  _ doing _ ?” For a brief moment, he thought that she was addressing him. But lazily looking in her direction showed that her back was to him. She (terrifyingly) reminded him of his Amad with the way her fists perched on her hips. And the object of her ire hadn’t the decency to be cowed. She...oh.

 

_ Oh _ .  

 

Miss Harry stood in the center of the clearing, skirts removed leaving on only the trousers she wore beneath them, with her fingers pulling at the laces of her bodice. She scowled at her sister. “I’m drying off Billa, what does it look like?” 

 

“It isn’t proper!”

 

“Why not? Fíli and Kíli are practically naked, and I’m not removing my blouse or my trousers so no one’s going to see anything. We’ve already seen the Company starkers, anyway. I’m sure they can handle me dressing down a few layers for an hour or so.”

 

“At least put on a waistcoat!”

 

“If I put on a waistcoat my blouse won’t dry properly.” She replies as evenly as she can, given the circumstances. It was impressive really. “I’d really rather not deal with chaffed clothing if I don’t have to.”

 

“But-”

 

“ _ Eru _ , Billa! If I hear one more complaint out of you I’ll strip down completely and run around like a Brandybuck Faunt in summer!”

 

Miss Billa narrowed her eyes. “You wouldn’t dare! You’re a Baggins!”

 

Miss Harry narrowed her eyes in return. “And a  _ Took _ .” Thanks to the long fireside stories, Fíli and the company knew exactly what kind of creature a Took was. They just weren’t sure if the outraged look Miss Billa was making was unfounded or not. 

 

“The  _ propriety _ -”

 

“That’s it!” Miss Harry turned on her heel, whipping her bodice against the dirt. Her fingers worked fast and furiously to undo the laces of her blouse as she stomped around the impromptu camp. The dwarves and Gandalf watch in amusement as her curls disappear behind a large boulder.

 

Her sister’s face is impossibly red at that point, and once a bundled bit of fabric flies over the boulder and to the ground, she goes purple and shrieks. “ _ Harry _ !” 

 

The blouse is followed by a pair of trousers and a cackle. 

 

Fíli’s mouth went dry at the thought of Miss Harry’s current state, mere  _ feet  _ away from him. All he had to do was sneak into the shrubbery and-no, that was  _ bad _ . His respect and admiration for that fiery hobbit had grown over the last several days, as had her trust in him, and he would  _ not  _ dishonor her or betray her trust in such a way. (Yes Kee, he was well aware of the shit he had said at the beginning of their journey-and he regretted all of it. He was a changed dwarf!)

 

Although...they  _ were  _ out in the open, along a very popular route for travellers (and  _ bandits _ ). He didn’t have to be over there with her...but it was unwise for her to be unprotected while she was in such a vulnerable state. 

 

So Fíli sat beside the rock Miss Harry was using for cover, claiming that the sun hit the spot in  _ such _ a delightful way-why he could fall asleep right there! 

 

No one bought it, but nor did they call him out on it. They were too busy laughing. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fili has a crisis and Harry's given up on proper clothes

Less than an hour after the incident, Fíli donned his trousers and loosely laced his tunic. He offered-out of the goodness of his  _ heart _ ,  _ not  _ his ‘hammer’ Kíli-to bring Miss Harry her lunch ration. Well, who else would? Gandalf was too busy laughing into his pipe, her sister was still mad at her, and Fíli was the only dwarf who was on friendly enough terms with her to not be attacked (physically or verbally) for going over there. A statement pointedly made, and garnering the intended effect of making most of his fellow dwarrow shame-faced. 

 

(Now, the statement simply wasn’t true. But Dori would have a conniption if Ori was to do it. Bofur would most likely make one too many jokes that would make poor Miss Harry uncomfortable. Kíli could not be trusted. And Nori was...Nori. So  _ clearly  _ Fíli was the best and  _ only  _ choice.)

 

He gathers the food as well as Miss Harry’s now dry clothing in one arm, making a dramatic show of covering his eyes with the other once he’s beside the boulder. “Miss Harry?”

 

“Yes Master Fíli?” Miss Harry sounded tired, like Fíli had just woken her from a good nap.

 

Naked and napping...don’t think about it Fíli.  _ Don’t _ . You’re a  _ Prince _ !

 

“I’ve brought you your clothes, and some food.” He added the afterthought as a peace offering.  “May I come over? I promise my eyes are closed.”

 

She snorts. “Yes.”

 

Navigating while his eyes were closed was easier than he thought it would be. But he  _ really  _ could have gone without Miss Harry laughing at him for making the effort. 

 

“You ridiculous dwarf! You can open your eyes, I swear I’m decent...well... _ somewhat _ decent.”

 

Evidently, he and Miss Harry had differing definitions of the word Decent. In Fíli’s mind, her being decent meant that she was bundled in all her unnecessary hobbit-y layers, sitting ramrod straight as she weaved a flower crown or something equally absurd. It did  _ not  _ mean that she lay on the ground sunbathing with her hands pillowed behind her head, splayed out like a dessert waiting to be eaten, in a waistcoat and underskirt.  _ Only  _ a waistcoat and underskirt. 

 

Thank Mahal his tunic was baggy and loose because that much skin on display got a stronger reaction out of him than seeing her in wet clothing. 

 

Lazily, she looks at him. She cocks and eyebrow and he’s  _ gone _ .  _ Mahal _ , you’d think he was still a dwarfling with how his body reacted to her mere presence! 

 

“What?” She asked, laughter as evident as the beard on his face. When he doesn’t answer, she rolls those pretty green eyes, pushing herself into a seated position (Mahal, it should be outlawed for flesh to move like that! From her arms to her bosom-which he was pointedly avoiding-to the meat of her shoulder blades...every small movement had his pulse  _ racing _ .). She reached out. For a moment, a dirty, traitorous part of his mind suggested that it was  _ him  _ she wanted. “Well? Aren’t you going to give them to me?” Her outreached hand grabs the air, almost in a childlike way. Her stomach growled.

 

Oh. Right.  _ Food _ . Food and  _ clothes _ . The things he had come to give to her. He fumbled, giving the items to her in the most graceless way he could possibly manage. Her eyes were full of suspicion as she takes a bite out of her stale bread, making no effort to replace her waistcoat with a more suitable article of clothing (Fíli wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not). Then, she groans. “Not you  _ too _ ! Stop looking at me like that! Did you  _ really  _ think I was going to waltz around naked? I would  _ never- _ ! I just wanted her to stop...I’m  _ clothed _ , Master Fíli.  _ Stop  _ looking at me like that!” 

 

Clothed was a generous term, but Fíli was wise enough to keep his mouth shut. She huffed at him and took another bite out of her bread. 

 

“You know,” She said after she swallowed her mouthful of pasty bread-mush. “I’ve seen you lot naked half a dozen times already and we've only been on the road for two weeks. The reverse was bound to happen eventually.” She takes a swig from her water skin. Fíli’s eyes were glued to the stray drop that escaped from the corner of her mouth,  slowly trailing down her chin. She wiped it away with the back of her hand. “You’re acting as if you’ve never seen the flesh of another woman-which I find very hard to believe. I mean look at you! A handsome lad like yourself, surely this isn’t your first time?” It’s not, and he has, several times in fact. He tells her this, but it’s clear that she doesn’t believe him. He  _ has _ ! It’s just...it’s different with Miss Harry.  _ Because  _ it’s Miss Harry. 

 

But he can’t-won’t-tell her that. Instead, he shrugged. Telling her that he’d never seen the skin of a hobbit before-and how he’d truly thought it didn’t exist, what with all they layers they tended to wear. Can you blame him for being shocked?

 

She blinked at him-once, twice-before throwing her head back and letting out the merriest laughter he had heard from her yet.

 

“Oh my dear, ridiculous Prince,” She says once her laughter dissolved away into occasional giggles. “I really needed that, thank you.” Her smile ignites a fire in his belly. “Now get out of here you cheeky thing, I need to put on proper clothes before rejoining our-um- _ civilized _ Company.” She swats at him,  _ cursing  _ when he barely moves (“Eru, are you  _ actually  _ made of stone?!”), and then uses one of her abnormally large feet to shove him back. 

 

He falls flat on his ass laughing, but leaves with a wink and a ‘As you wish, My Lady’.

 

Later, when he’s walking to his pony to reattach the saddlebag, he’ll freeze, causing Kíli to run into his back and curse in a way that would have Amad boxing his ears if she were there; finally processing what the dark haired hobbit had said. 

 

Miss Harry thought he was  _ handsome _ .


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOPS, Didn't mean to take a two week break! The first week was because of the holidays and last week I was disgustingly sick

There’s no hot baths on the road, just cold rivers and a finite amount of soap that  _ must  _ last them until the lonely mountain. It won’t, but they’re going to try.

 

Really, Fíli only had chivalrous intentions. He’d heard the dull ripping of fabric and the string of curses from behind the boulder (a new one in a new location, though not far from where they had been hours earlier). He’d asked what happened and was met by the hissing of a hobbit-of Miss Harry. Apparently, the blouse she’d been wearing ripped and her sewing supplies were somewhere in her pack. Oh sure, he could have gone to look for them, but Amad always said that it was terribly rude to go through a Lady’s things-and Fíli had already been terrible to the poor hobbits. So he did the next best thing. He tossed Miss Harry his tunic-it was clean and would keep her warm enough while she mended her own.

 

It was a terrible idea. 

 

_ Clearly  _ the Valar were having a laugh at him. 

 

Not because Miss Harry looked silly or bad. Oh no. It was the  _ exact  _ opposite. 

 

Miss Harry looked positively  _ divine  _ as she cautiously walks back into camp, dressed in her hobbit-y trousers and his oversized tunic. It was a tad revealing in the chest area, and it slides down her shoulders a bit in a fashion that she’s clearly not used to, but there’s nothing  _ truly  _ scandalous about it. He’s seen dwarrowdams dressed in more revealing clothing before. 

 

Tell that to the other dwarves who mutter unflattering things about her. 

 

Tell that to his brain that, after one look at his hobbit, gets possessive and flustered all at once. 

 

_ Mine _ . It whispers. _ My clothes, my Harry, mine, mine, mine _ . 

 

(He’s not entirely sure what madness feels like, but this  _ can’t  _ be far off.)

 

Fíli sends them all rude hand gestures and snaps even ruder comments in Khuzdul at whoever dares look at her the wrong way, let alone make uncouth comments. In the end, only Ori and Bombur and Bifur are spared.

 

She’s grateful, though, and smiling so brightly it rivals the sun itself, making his insides run wild.


	11. Chapter 11

That night, when he’s once again on second watch, Miss Harry’s head is pillowed against his shoulder after falling asleep in the middle of regaling another exploit from her younger years. Her blouse had been mended, and she swapped it out with his tunic with the slightest bit of reluctance-enough to get his pulse racing- but it was replaced with his furs. He had shedded them, draping them over her shoulders after a particularly violent shiver to keep her warm as the night was unseasonably cool. He certainly couldn’t let his hobbit freeze!

 

... 

 

His. 

 

His furs. 

 

His hobbit-his  _ Harry _ . 

 

He couldn’t...he shouldn’t feel like this. He  _ knows  _ this. He’s a Prince, a dwarf, and she’s but a sweet little hobbit from the west. Taking this... _ infatuation _ any further can only lead to trouble, a voice (that sounds suspiciously like Uncle’s) reasons. 

 

It’s true though, at the end of their journey they will part ways- _ if _ they survive the dragon. She will return to her hole in the ground and he will stay behind to rebuild his fallen kingdom.

 

If she stays behind in Erebor he’s not sure if he can guarantee her any future together-if that’s what she’d even  _ want _ . He’s sure that Lord and Ladies will be throwing their daughters at him as soon as they enter the mountain, and the Council will pressure him to marry one of them because it’s ‘his duty to further the line of succession’. He can only imagine the anarchy it would cause if he took his hobbit for a wife, if his heir was only half-dwarf.  

 

He’s not even sure if his own  _ family  _ would approve of such a union-what with Uncle’s less than pleasant attitude towards the hobbits. Kíli would think the whole spectacle was hilarious, until the realization hit that he was responsible for furthering the family name. 

 

Yes, allowing this thing to progress further would cause nothing but trouble...

 

But that doesn’t stop him arm from curling around her, bringing her as close as their positions allowed. 

 

_ Mahal she’s worth the trouble though _ , he thinks. Every bit of it. 

 

(And he  _ was  _ a well known troublemaker back at Ered Luin…)

 

Because if he really thought about it, even after this short time, a life without Miss Harry seemed too dark and cold. He’d take  _ anything _ , even remaining friends for the rest of their days, if it meant that she’d stay in Erebor with them-with  _ him _ . 

 

An even Madder part of his mind (because surely that’s what the cause of all this was) conjured up images of that fictitious life. Where she stays with him and is  _ his  _ in every way, just as he is hers. Images of waking together on an opulent bed, curled under furs, and giving each other wicked looks as one tries to talk the other into just five more minutes-or ignoring their duties altogether. Of adorning her dark hair with mithril chains and white gems to mirror the night’s sky. Of her wearing his tunics because she wanted to, not because she needed to (wearing  _ only  _ his tunic out of both  **_want_ ** and  **_need_ ** ). Of tiny children with furry toes and chins with blonde or black hair, sitting atop his lap in court sessions or hiding behind their mother’s dwarven style skirts as -

 

Miss Harry shifted. Somehow she managed to get closer to him to leech off his heat. Fíli can’t help the soft smile that blooms on his face. He pressed his face into the curls at the very top of her head, allowing himself to just stay there and have this moment. This  _ real  _ moment. 

 

(Later, he’d beat himself up for losing himself and touching her hair without her permission. And he’d thank the Valar that no one [especially Uncle or Amad] witnessed it.)

 

That possessive voice, instead of whispering impossible fantasies, whispered a word-a name. A name that held a depth of emotion that Fíli wasn’t sure he felt or not. He tested it, mouthing the name into her hair. Repeating it half a dozen times.

 

There was no grand realization as the name brought no sense of unease no matter how many times he mouthed it. All he knew was that it didn’t feel wrong, so clearly that meant it was  _ right  _ on some level, right? 

 

He spoke, tentatively, barely louder than the breeze in the night air.

 

It brought no sour taste to his mouth, nor a sense of guilt. Instead he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, or as if something in his brain had started moving into place.

 

It felt... _ right _ .

 

…

 

Mahal, he was fucked. 


	12. Chapter 12

“Nadad, I think you and I should talk.” That sentence alone was enough to fill Fíli with dread, for there was no doubt what-or _who-_ the topic of this impromptu conversation would be about.

 

Sighing, the elder Prince walked over to a tethered pony, loosening the reins so it could slip out and graze. “Must we have this conversation now?” There was no point in stalling. He knew that this conversation would happen sooner or later.

 

“This is the perfect time! No Uncle, no nosy bastards, no _hobbits…_ ” Ah, _there_ it was.

 

“Speak plainly, Kíli. I’m not in the mood for games.” Uncle had taken him off watch for the night so he could care for the ponies. That meant no stories, no private cuddles. Yeah...he wasn’t too thrilled about that.

 

His brother frowns, a foreign look on his joyful face. “Fee, I like Miss Baggins-”

 

“-Harry.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Her name is Harry.”

 

Kíli threw his hands up in the air. “Fine! Miss Harry! Happy?” There was no patient pause to await an affirmation. “I like her Fee, really I do. But I need to know that you know what you're doing-I don't want either one of you to get hurt.”

 

Sometimes, Fíli didn't give his brother his due credit. While mischievous and a little dim-witted, Kíli could also be very perceptive and empathetic...when he wanted to be. “You needn't worry. There's nothing going on between us, and there won't be. I can't…”

 

Kíli was silent and contemplative. “You _can't_ ...but is that what you _want_?”

 

An incredulous, bordering self-deprecating, laugh slipped past his lips. “What I want doesn't matter! She doesn't even…even if she _did_ we couldn't...it wouldn’t be fair to her-I’d have to marry a dwarf and then we’d both be miserable…”

 

“...Fíli...do you _love_ her?”

 

There was that word again. That funny, four letter word that had been haunting him for the past few nights. He’s been telling himself that what he feels isn’t love, simply because it _can’t_ be. Yet deep down he knows the truth.

 

And it terrifies him.

 

Did he love her? _Yes_. He loves her so deeply and fiercely. He’d do anything for her. If she asked, he’d give her the sun.

 

It’s alarming how quickly his opinion of her changed-and if asked he couldn’t even pinpoint when it happened. All he knew was one moment he thought she was a fusspot from a rabbit burrow and unsuited for their quest to being hopelessly-maddeningly, entirely-in love with her.

 

And Kíli was still waiting for his answer.

 

Fíli was never good at lying to his brother. He opened his mouth but...what came out wasn’t a confession.  

 

“Kíli...how many ponies did we have?”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOPS Didn't mean to not post last week, and KH3 has consumed me for the entire week, so...yeah two updates for this week.

Being tied up in a sack had not been his proudest moment. Perhaps only second to trying to bite the abnormally large feet of those who tried to save them. Or even being the reason that the ponies had gotten lost in the first place.

In his defense, hearing his hobbit declare him diseased had hurt. Though clever Miss Harry had taken it in stride, claiming that his false madness was brought upon by his imaginary parasites. The trolls were stupid enough to believe her.

When dawn comes and they’re all relieved of their sacks she’s the first one he runs to after he’s certain his brother and Uncle are alright. “Parasites, Hm?” His voice thankfully hides any trace of the turmoil wreaking havoc inside him.

She winces. “My apologies.” His dear hobbit says. “In our defense, we were only trying to vie for time.” She looks up at the closest troll, now stone and forever contorted into defensive position, and wrinkles her cute nose. “I can’t tell if they’re uglier now or when they were alive.” That surprises a bark of laughter out of him; tinged with far more hysteria than Fíli would readily admit.

It was enough though, to get her pretty, concerned gaze focused on him.

He just...it was _so hard_ to explain. The night was so _long_ . He’d spent the majority of it tied in a sack, with no sleep. Maybe...maybe he _did_ have a madness. A madness involving _her_. The image of her in the fight would forever be burned in his mind. Of her climbing a tree to jump onto a troll’s shoulder, stabbing it in the eye with her sword.

Being swatted away like she was nothing more than a fly, a nuisance, a pest.

Laying on the ground, motionless for too long.

Oh it was more out of shock than anything, and she was up again and fighting before the battle finished but the damage had been done. Fíli can’t fully recall what happened at that moment. But he can remember seeing red and where killing the trolls had been a necessity before, at that moment it was an act of righteous vengeance, a _desire_. He had acted without really thinking. Lunging and slashing and stabbing with every bit of his being. That dangerous, poisonous thought controlling his movements.

How could he tell her what that moment had done to him? How could he say that a little piece of him had broken as he watched her fall to the ground? How could he say that when he couldn’t even tell her…

Actions, Amad once said, could speak louder than words. Were very helpful when you couldn’t find the right words.

Like what had happened hours earlier, Fíli let his emotions control his actions. With one hand he grabbed her waist, pulling her close enough where their entire fronts were touching. With the other he buried it deep in her mane of curls at the back of her head, pulling her head to his so their foreheads touched.

Any dwarf who saw would recognize the gesture for what it was-and some (Kíli-and Mahal was he going to hear it for touching her hair like that) did, if their sharp intakes of breath were anything to go by. For once, Fíli found that he couldn’t care less what his people had to say. All that mattered was his hobbit in his arms. His hobbit who was too clever and had an idea about what his action meant. His hobbit whose soft hands reach up and cup the sides of his face. Who smiled so softly, so sadly as her thumbs traced the stress lines on his face.

His hobbit who could’ve…

The noise that tears through his throat is nothing less than anguished, causing her to freeze. “Please,” He chokes. “ _Please_ don’t _ever_ scare me like that again.  
She doesn’t promise; _won’t_ , because they’re on a quest where it has become abundantly clear that any one of them could die at _any_ moment-not just to the dragon that may await them at the end of their journey. He should know that, she says. Somehow, that hurts more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me about KH3 on tumblr since I won't shut up about it: inside-the-mountain.tumblr.com


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update 2/2 for the week

Fíli regrets not stopping his hobbit from buying her crossbow. More so than that, he wished he had a way to go back in time and stop himself from teaching her how to use it. 

Watching her fight the trolls was bad enough.  _ That  _ was a contained environment with only three foes. 

Watching her fight the wargs was another thing entirely. This was open grasslands, with very few places to hide, with at least thrice as many foes as the night before. Foes who were much smarter, much faster,  _ much  _ more bloodthirsty. 

She and Kíli had the advantage though, with their long range weaponry. She managed to get a warg in the eye on her second shot. Kíli got the Orc. They worked well together, but that didn’t stop Fíli’s heart from painfully constricting each time she whipped around to release a bolt. That didn’t stop the nervous twitch of his hands when she and Kíli rushed out to kill the warg lurking above their hiding place.

And when that little crevice appeared, Fíli didn’t even hesitate as he bodily picked up his squawking hobbit and throwing her to the relative safety below. He had almost done the same with his brother, but Kíli was at least smart enough to do as he was told in serious situations.

Miss Harry was a little battered, and clearly exhausted, but she was  _ alive _ . Fíli would take a thousand verbal lashing from her and Uncle if meant that she stayed that way. 


	15. Chapter 15

Elves.

It had to be fucking  _ elves _ . Tharkûn could have taken them to a hidden dwarven settlement (there were none in this area, but that was beside the point) or even to a village of Men! But no, Gandalf had them walk through the front gates of Rivendell, and getting them food and shelter. With. Elves.

Worse yet, the hobbits  _ loved  _ it! If it wasn’t one being awestruck by the architecture, then it was the other one trying to sneak away and go find the gardens. 

Admittedly though, it was rather hilarious to watch Miss Billa get up into Uncle’s face and yell back at him when the topic of their rooming situation was brought up. Because they finally had proper beds, Master Dwarf, and  _ baths _ , and she’d be damned to let them go to waste! If he wanted to sleep on the floor, fine! But she and Harry were going to make use of the feather mattresses that had been provided!

That was all well and good.

Until Dinner.

Fíli lost all traces of humor as the hobbits entered the terrace. Freshly bathed hobbits that now smelled like  _ elves  _ instead of sweat and dirt and musk. The only positive thing Fíli found in that whole situation was how enchanting Miss Harry looked in a dress made of spun gold. Too bad it was  _ elvish  _ fashion.

He’d commission a new one made for her as soon as they retook the mountain. One of dwarvish fashion. Hell, he’d even mine the gold and spin it himself!

She was hesitant as he made his way to her side. He tried smiling, but found that his muscles didn’t want to cooperate. “My Lady.” He offered his elbow. “Don’t you look-uh-lovely.” It was too uncertain. Those pretty eyes narrowed and she scoffed.

“I look like a child dressed in their mother’s clothing.” She reached for the chain that hung from her comb, fiddling with the golden starburst shape at the end.

No you don’t, he tells her with a hint of laughter touching his words. “Gold suits you. Although, I wish we had something less Elvish to give you.” His comment’s accentuated with a wink.

Miss Harry doesn’t find the style nearly as off putting as he does, and she tells him so. Elves weren’t as bad as the Company liked to think-they’ve been nothing but kind and accommodating to them all, and he’s do well to remember that, thank you very much!

She quickly removed her hand from his arm, sitting beside her sister and Gandalf at the table. Not once did she look his way.

Fíli’s so disturbed ( _ not _ upset...okay maybe a  _ little  _ upset) by her behaviour that he doesn’t participate in Bofur’s impromptu song, nor does he notice when Uncle’s gaze lingered a touch too long on Miss Billa in her pretty blue dress. 


End file.
